Guilty Comfort

This is the embarrassing truth.
I do love you.
Disbelief shakes my head-
this emotion is not misaimed.
I love the way it feels
in my hand.
I know hardly anything of you,
but of myself familiar sensations.
You don't romance me much
or sing me my own name.
You are distant and unavailable
and don't return my calls.
You are nothing I need
and everything I want.
I am to you but a memory,
a tally.
We don't know each other at all
and your scent is stuck to my skin.
All of this is worth nothing,
amounts to nothing.
So for everything it is worth,
I do love you.